


May You Always Rise for Us

by Digi_Heart



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 01:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18042767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Digi_Heart/pseuds/Digi_Heart
Summary: As the sun rises on Ember Island, an ex-prince rises with it. Firebenders rise with the sun, after all.





	May You Always Rise for Us

The sun is only beginning to lighten the horizon. It burns the edge of the sky, and Zuko’s eyes open. He sits up, knowing that he won’t be able to fall back asleep anyway. 

Once you’re awake, you’re awake, Zuko remembers. That’s what he had always told himself when he was younger, so that he could get into the habit of early morning training. He feels as if he hasn’t trained in a while, even though it has only been a few days. 

He needed the rest, he tries to tell himself, but something dark and unwanted continues to fester inside of him. The room is dim and bleak. No sunlight filters through the windows. All he can think of are iron walls. He needs to get outside before his mind begins to darken, too. 

Zuko has felt this way before, especially during his time at sea, but he has never understood the storm that brewed inside of him. Wind and rain would pound on the walls, demanding to be let in. It was all Zuko could do to shrink under the covers, as if he was a feckless boy of thirteen again. The only thing that Uncle Iroh could do was to brew him tea and sit with him. Talk to him. Zuko would maybe snap a few things at him, but it wouldn't bother his uncle. Uncle Iroh would give him that soft, and now that Zuko thought about it, sad smile. 

But thinking of his uncle and the sea and the storm only worsens the pain. There is no uncle here with him, and it is all his fault. Heat wells up within him, but it’s not his fire. 

He walks out of his room with his back as straight as the rod he used to get slapped with by his instructors. He needs to pretend as if he his calm, cool, and collected. If he can manage that, then maybe it can come true. Fake it until you make it. But he’s never been particularly good at faking it, either. 

“Oh, Zuko,” he can hear his sister’s voice, tinged with a mocking lilt that never went away, “you’ve always been such a terrible liar.”

He’s glad that he’s allowed his own room. He’d been worried that they still hadn’t trusted him enough for that. Aang can try to cover it up with a bright smile, but he sees the slightly apprehensive looks that they all give him. He has slowly come to realize that he would not be able to “prove” his loyalty to anyone. He is here for his country, he is here for the Avatar, but most importantly, he is here for himself. Besides, actions speak louder than words. He is training the Avatar. Guiding him. That’s what he tells himself, anyway. It never stops the shadows that cover him as tense faces glow up at him from the campfire. Aang and his friends never openly share their distrust.

However, Katara is a bit more vocal. She had wanted to protest against him getting his own room, but Toph had waved her off with a, “Let him be, Sugar Queen.” 

“What does that even mean?” Katara had fumed, giving Zuko the opportunity to slip away uninhibited, away from the rest of the group. Even though the group is nice and fun, Zuko finds himself getting tired easily.

Social interaction, he decides, is a lot harder than his training or his studies had ever been. He had always been quiet unless provoked.

“Like an animal,” her sister had once told him, laughing. Dark shapes flicker and giggle in the halls of the beach house. The faint morning light is not strong enough to reach this part of the house. Zuko makes sure to shut the door gently on his way out, so that no one will wake up and follow him. He knows that it will make it easier for him and for everyone else if he is just left alone.

Sand crunches underneath his feet. Dark green seaweed floats in the water. It is low tide. Small, flimsy waves weakly push at immovable, sturdy rocks onshore. The waves will never be able to overcome the insurmountable, jagged stones. Not until it is high tide. When it is high tide, the waves will grow higher and more powerful, smashing on top of the rocks and overtaking them for its own. Zuko would know. He has nearly been crushed by waves like that when playing on this beach more than one time. Azula always snickered at him and told him to pay attention. 

“It’s no wonder you can’t fight, Zuzu,” Azula had jeered. But Azula wasn’t perfect, either. At least, not back then. It only happened to her once, and that was the last time Zuko had ever seen her in the water. They were both splashing each other, and neither of them were paying attention. They were in their own world of fun and sibling rivalry. Normally, Zuko hated competing with Azula, but this time, he didn’t feel twisted or sick. Maybe Azula felt the same way. But the wave crashed on the both of them, bringing their fun to an abrupt halt. 

Zuko, who had been used to the waves pushing him down at this point, quickly recovered. He immediately stood up and coughed out some water. He looked expectantly around for Azula, but she was down on the ground, spluttering and flailing. As the tide receded, Azula was pulled back onshore. Zuko hurried over and helped her up. 

“Are you okay?” he had tried to ask, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his sister shoved him away with a glare. She had tried to pretend that she was unruffled, but her mouth was quirked down and her eyes flickered over to where Father had been watching. He was still there. Impassive yellow eyes pierced their souls, and continued to leave impressions that would never fade away. Azula stalked away from him without saying a word. 

Zuko bets that Azula doesn’t remember a thing. He remembers as clear as day. Dark clouds seethe inside of him and threaten to burst. The memory is too much, and Zuko can’t look anymore. The sun is too low to see over the sea. But he knows a place where he can observe it closer. 

He walks away from the beach house, still on the stretch of beach. It is too early for anyone to be awake, including Katara. He remembers back how back at the Air Temple, she would diligently attempt every day to wake up as early as he, just so she could keep an eye on him while he trained. 

Her blue eyes shoot flames in his mind, flaring as a hurricane rages inside of him. Maybe the storm is inside of her, too. He’s glad she’s not here. Zuko picks up the pace. If he’s quick, he can have a few hours to himself. 

And if he wants to, a part of him thinks, he can always ditch the rest of them. Just for a few more hours. It’s not like anyone will miss him at breakfast. Katara sure won’t, and of course, she will never say anything if she notices. And it will take the others some time before they notice anything. No one ever pays attention to their surroundings, just like no one wants him here. Not him, not Azula, and certainly not the group. 

The waves increase in size. Is it high tide? Darkness begins its barrage in his heart. It is a torrent of hate and anger, but all of it is directed at himself. A memory surfaces, unbidden, of him standing in the rain, furiously screaming at the sky. Rain is falling from the sky and down on his face, mixing with his tears until everything blurs. Zuko can pretend all he wants, but nothing will change the fact that he's just as worthless as he was back then. The ground moves fast beneath him. Green undergrowth tugs at his feet. Zuko closes his eyes. Today is a bad day.

When he opens them again, he is at the cliffs. He has come here before, when he was a boy. He would sit at the ledge and dangle his feet precariously over the water. 

It looks just as deep today, he thinks as he looks down into ocean. The sun has only begun to peak over the sky. It burns a fierce red. He sits down, cross-legged, preparing to meditate. But his eyes don’t close. They stay wide open. At some point, his legs stretch out to dangle over the ledge.

He hears a rustle, and he whips around to face the bright green bushes. Sokka pops out. 

“Hey,” Sokka said with a wave. Zuko stares at him. 

Slowly, Zuko relaxes and replies, “Hey.” 

Zuko swallows. “What are you doing here?” Zuko had been so sure that none of them would be up at this hour, but when he looks at the sky again, he realizes that he must have been here for a while now. 

“I saw you leave. I wasn’t going to follow, but you ‘ve been gone for some time now,” Sokka says.

“Oh. Sorry,” he apologizes. What a fool he had been to assume that they wouldn’t notice him. They are clearly still suspicious, so of course they want to keep a close eye on him.

“Aang’s looking for you, too,” Sokka says and sits down beside him, uninvited.

“He didn’t have to,” Zuko says as his fists clench uncomfortably.

“He’ll come here eventually. You left footprints.” The Avatar had always left a trail behind, making it all too easy to follow him. Zuko had studied tracking techniques for years, only to be severely underwhelmed. A trail had once been his saving grace in his hunt for the Avatar, only to be his downfall now.

“Do you believe in karma?” his sister asked him. “I don’t. It sounds stupid.”

Sure enough, Aang comes noisily crashing in. 

“Hey, guys!” he exclaims loudly. Zuko says nothing, and keeps his eyes fixed on the ground as Aang and Sokka greet. Shadows pass over his head as the sun rises and shifts in color, from a bright red to a soft gold.

He hears movement beside him, and knows that Aang is sitting on his other side. His scarred side. 

Aang opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Zuko looks up and gives a light, almost imperceptible exhale.

Zuko can’t remember the last time he stopped to see this. A soft smile creeps onto his face. He has been to many different parts of the world. Sometimes, he would watch the sun rise on his ship. But then, he had felt nothing, only cold and empty and longing. 

Nothing will ever beat watching the sunrise at the Fire Nation, he decides. The sun burns a vibrant gold from its perch in the sky, lighting it in the way a torch brightens a room or hall. 

Aang and Sokka are staring at him for some reason, thinking that he can’t see them. They quickly look back up at the sky when Zuko glances at them. 

“I used to watch the sunrise all the time with Kuzon,” Aang says, quietly for once. “I had thought that the best view was from the Air Temple. Kuzon decided to try and prove me wrong.”

“He did,” Aang adds without prompting. 

“Sunrises were never really that great at the South Pole,” Sokka says, and Zuko understands. The sky is too pale, and the place would only look drained of color. “Sunsets were better.”

“It helps me get my energy,” Zuko says, even though they probably know that already.

“It looks amazing,” Aang says as a form of response.

“Yeah,” is all Sokka says. Zuko is surprised that he hasn’t said anything witty or sarcastic. 

As Zuko’s face is lit under the sun, the darkness breaks and the hate begins to ebb away. The storm dissolves, and he feels as if his mind and soul are calm. As he looks around, a gentle peace settles over him. 

“Aang,” he begins. Aang turns toward him expectantly. “I hope you’re not here thinking that you can get out of training.” Aang’s face falls and Sokka begins to laugh. Aang pouts, but Zuko is smiling at him. Zuko’s smiles are rare but genuine, and Aang starts to smile, too. 

“Five laps,” Zuko says. “I’ll go easy on you.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this a long time ago for the ATLA Amino Olympics, but I never ended up posting it here. I made a few edits before posting this, and hopefully they’re all right. For once, when I read this over again, I was actually satisfied with a majority of it. Anyway, please enjoy!


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